Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Simirit Lyons
Summary: There's Wendy, whose quest to grow up is interrupted by a plea for help from Tootles. There's Peter, who would rather "run Wendy through" than "listen to her silly stories." And there's Neverland, which has changed. And not for the better.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** The story's basically about Peter Pan and the boys physically growing up in Neverland and no one knowing what's going on or why it's happening. It shows how everything's falling apart between them. Also, Wendy is growing up in London and even though she promised that she never would, she's glad that she is. There's this struggle between her wanting to help Peter but her wanting so much to stay home and grow up. Yes, there is romance involved. I don't know where this is going to take me. I have a general idea but I can't say that I definitely know where this is going. It's just the prologue so it's kind of early to make any assumptions…right?

_Nothing Gold Can Stay_

**_prologue_**

On nights like tonight, Wendy often remembered that she had promised him that she would never grow up. He had promised her that he would come back for her for spring cleaning. They had both broken their promises. 

It had been about five years since she had last seen her beloved boy and she was nearly seventeen. She was practically a woman. She was grown up. 

"Whatever would he think of me if he saw me now?" she asked herself very quietly as she gazed at her reflection. It was almost as if she thought that if she spoke too loudly, he would hear her.

She almost felt sorry sometimes. The promise that she had made him had been the truest promise that she had ever made and she had intended to keep it. But as time went on, Wendy realized that she had to grow up. She needed to. He had forgotten her so she would do the same and forget him too. 

It was painful when she let the realization that he'd forgotten her settle in. Up until that point, Wendy had only to deal with the fact that Michael and John had forgotten all about him and Neverland. She remembered being horrified upon finding out and crying herself to sleep that night. Then she came to realize that he had forgotten all about her. Was she the only one who remembered anything? 

Wendy swiftly brushed a knot out of her hair. It was so much longer than it used to be. He used to love to play with her short hair the few times that she had allowed him to. She remembered how his little hands curiously explored the waves of hair. She remembered how nice it had felt.

Where had all these thoughts of him come from all of a sudden? She never usually thought about him anymore. The moonlight seeping in through her curtains gave her the answer. On nights like tonight night, when the stars and moon shone brighter and the sky was clearer than usual, she thought of him. Those nights like tonight reminded her of the first night she had ever gone with him to Neverland. 

Setting her brush down, Wendy turned off the dimly lit lights in her room, opened her curtains, sat on her window seat, and gazed out her large, open window. Nostalgia filled her, making her hate that night like she did whenever a night like that happened to roll around. It filled her with memories of what it felt like to have the wind on her back and birds' wings pounding to a set rhythm. 

Why, she nearly remembered exactly what Tinkerbell's fairy language sounded like. She remembered the jingle-jangle of little bells. In fact, she almost heard them right now—she could swear that she heard them right now. It was odd. The sound of bells was getting louder. 

_"Stop yelling!" came a strained whisper, causing Wendy to jump. _

She immediately turned around so that her back was to her window and she could see the entire room. It was dark, except for the moonlight, so she strained her eyes and looked around. "Who's there?" demanded Wendy. Who would be in her room without knocking? And why would they ask her to stop yelling when she hadn't even been talking in the first place?

The sound of bells just sounded back as a reply. 

_"Stop yelling!" the voice commanded again. It was male, but it couldn't be her brothers because they were away and it wasn't deep enough to be her father's._

And then Wendy saw a figure step out of the shadows with a ball of light floating beside him. The ball of light flew to her, stopping only inches away from her nose. 

Tinkerbell. She shook her fist angrily at Wendy, shouting louder in her fairy language. But, it couldn't be… "Tinkerbell?" Wendy breathed incredulously. 

She continued to yell at Wendy.

"I…I can't understand you, Tinkerbell," said Wendy apologetically. "I've forgotten how."

Tinkerbell crossed her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. "I said, of _course it's me," she sighed impatiently so that Wendy could understand her. "I can see that you haven't changed much. You're still a big, ugly, stupid girl." _

Wendy ignored the comment and walked passed the fairy towards the other figure in the room. He was trying his best to stay in the shadows but was having a difficult time. She looked up at him, studying him as best as she could with only the moonlight and Tinkerbell serving as light for her to see. He was a very tall and extremely lanky. "Peter?" she asked at last, voice full of uncertainty. 

He shook his head. "No. Tootles."

**End Note: Any thoughts, questions, comments, or suggestions? Anything?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Since this is the first official chapter of the story, it's not too late to make some introductions of some sort. I'd like to start off by saying that this is no way in shape or form based on the Disney version of Peter Pan. I can't even imagine writing anything based on that version. Your closest bet to figuring out what I've based it on would probably be Peter Pan and the Pirates ****BUT not entirely. You see, I don't remember it well enough to base characters' personalities entirely on the show and things like that. So, I might take a few elements out of the show, like Billy Jukes. Secondly, I'd like to make my disclaimer now. **Peter Pan was created by J.M. Barrie. **That's all that I can think of right now. If there's anything else, I'll add it in another chapter. Enjoy the chapter.**

_Nothing Gold Can Stay: chapter 1_

**_Death Beseeches Him_**

I'm dying. 

That was the first thought that he thought when he woke up every morning and the last thought that he thought when he went to sleep every night. 

I'm dying.

He was dying and there was nothing that he could do about it. Soon he would be dead and there was nothing that he or anybody else could do about it.

I'm dying.

That morning was not any different from the rest. He still thought about the fact that he was dying like he did any other morning. 

I'm _dying._

He couldn't get up. What was the point, anyway? He was dying. He practically had no friends anymore. There was Tinkerbell and Tootles, but they couldn't comfort him.

_Dying…_

He knew what would happen. He would die alone and friendless and no one would give a second thought about him. The others had all abandoned him, so why should they care?

_I'm dying._

Hell, he could even die the next day. He could go to sleep and not wake up. He could—

"Peter, get up." 

Peter squinted with annoyance when his fairy whispered imploringly into his ear. He swatted her away and turned over in his hammock.

"Come on, Peter," Tinkerbell pressed, tugging on his ear. "I know you're awake."

Instead of getting up, he curled up into a ball and wrapped his arms around himself.

Tinkerbell sighed but she would not give up. She was determined to get him out of bed; it was too nice of a day. "The sun's been up for hours, sleepyhead," she pressed, now tugging on his hair. "You're not staying in bed—not when it's such a nice day outside."

"Go 'way, Tink," Peter ordered, curling up even tighter. "I don't want to get up so leave me alone." 

_"Oh!" she exclaimed, frustrated, hands on her hips. "Fine! Stay in bed all day! See if I care!"_

Peter swiftly sat up and faced Tinkerbell. "What does it matter, huh? What does it matter at all? I'm going to die anyway so what does—"

"Don't say that!" she shouted, furious. "Don't ever say that again, Peter!"

"Why?" He stood up so that he was face to face with her. "It's the truth, Tinkerbell—"

"You don't know that—"

"Don't lie to me!" Peter's face was red with all his bottled up emotions. It was the first time that he was actually letting them out. "It's the truth! You and I both know it, Tinkerbell! You're not stupid and neither am I and neither is Tootles! He knows it too!"

She was at a loss of words. She _did_ know it but she had never wanted to face it.

"So if you want me to get up, fine, I'm up!" shouted Peter. He was trembling now. "But I can't play make believe and pretend that what's true isn't happening because it is! I'm not a child anymore! Look at me! I can't play make believe anymore! Just look at me!"

It was true. Tinkerbell examined him. It was true. He _wasn't a child anymore. He was a young man. He was a growing young man and she was just as scared as he was._

A few moments of silence passed before Peter quietly said, "I'm sorry, Tink. Don't cry."

She was crying. She did not even notice that she was crying. 

Peter turned away from her. He hated that he had made Tinkerbell cry and he couldn't look at her. Subconsciously, he floated into the air before saying, "I just wish you knew how I feel. It's like…like..." But he couldn't find the words to explain. Frustrated with himself, he flew out the open skylight above them.

Tinkerbell let another tear fall down her cheek. Her poor boy. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and that she was there for him, but she knew that he would just ignore her. 

Hearing a floorboard creak behind her, Tinkerbell said, "You know, it's really hard not being able to protect him anymore," she said quietly.

Even though Tinkerbell could not see him, she knew that Tootles was nodding in agreement like he always did, as if he understood. But he really didn't. In all his efforts to understand, he never would because he didn't love Peter the way that she did. 

"Tink." Tootles had been doing some hard thinking. He as well as anybody else knew that Peter was dying, but there had to be someone who could help. _Someone. And he could only think of one person who had once been able to solve all of Peter's problems._

"Yes, Tootles?" said Tinkerbell, facing him and wiping away the remainder of her tears.

"I've been thinking." 

And now, Tootles watched her meekly from the shadows, filled with such awe and wonder. She was old. Well, not old, but _older_, clearly not the young girl that she had been. And with that, Tootles realized how young she really had been when she left he and the other boys in Neverland compared to now. They all had been so young.

No. That was not what Tootles had come for, not to wallow in old memories. 

"I can't believe that I let you bring me here," whispered Tinkerbell, sourly. She was perched on his shoulder and was still quite upset that they had come.

Tootles did not answer. Instead, he continued to watch her. He watched her turn off the dim lights in the room and open her window and gaze out into the night sky.

"Oh, close your mouth, Tootles," snapped Tinkerbell. "That gaping look doesn't suit you."

He watched her stiffen up at the window. She had heard Tinkerbell.

"Is this what you brought me here for?" demanded Tinkerbell. "To watch her stare out the window!"

Desperately, Tootles tried to calm her down. _"Stop yelling!" _he whispered loudly.

But it was too late. She had heard. "Who's there?"  

Tootles held his breath, suddenly afraid. She sounded so…so menacing and so un-motherly, not like how he remembered. He shouldn't have been there, but it was too late. If he tried to escape, she would see him. 

Tinkerbell huffed impatiently. "I cannot _believe_ you, Tootles! Just _what_ are you waiting for?"

_"Stop yelling!" he begged through gritted teeth. He had come all that way so he might as well have made himself known. Stepping out of the shadows, he watched her, waiting for her reaction. She did not have a chance to react because Tinkerbell flew to her, stopping only inches away from her face. _

"Tinkerbell?" she breathed. Disbelief filled her voice.

"Of _course_ it's me!" 

"I…I can't understand you," she said apologetically. "I've forgotten how." 

"I said, of _course_ it's me!" Tinkerbell shouted so that the girl could understand her. This was so typical of her. Tinkerbell should have known that she wouldn't have gotten any smarter than before. "I can see you haven't changed much. You're still a big, ugly, stupid girl."

The girl was not fazed. In fact, it was as if she had not even heard the fairy. She walked past her, eyes set on Tootles, mesmerized. She took her time to examine him, giving his body a once over. "Peter?" 

"No. Tootles," he replied, shaking his head. Tootles could see her eyes widen and her mouth slightly drop open. 

"W-what?" she finally said.

"It's me, Wendy," he said, stepping closer. "It's me, Tootles." 

"But…but…" Swiftly, Wendy switched on her lights. She turned back to Tootles, even more surprised now that she could see him in the light. 

Something was awfully wrong. He was very tall and thin. He towered over her and she might have been intimidated if she was not so full of shock. And, he had such a darling face. 

By now, Tootles was feeling even more uncomfortable. Why was she staring at him like that? What was she thinking? She looked like she was about to say something, but she never got around to saying it. What was she going to say? "Wendy," said Tootles. "Please, say something. You're making me nervous."

"Oh!" Wendy couldn't stop herself from running to him and squeezing him. Even though it was hard to believe—hard to even imagine—that the young man that she was hugging was really Tootles, she believed him. Something told her to trust that this was him. "I can't believe it! Look at you. What's happened to you?" 

Then Wendy pulled away from him and he made the same face that he made whenever she used to hug him—that same face filled with such content and she was certain that it was him. 

"No time to explain now." He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the window. "Come on, let's go."

Wendy tore her hand from him. "Wait! How did you even get in here? How did you even know that this was my room? I've moved out of the nursery—" 

"I'll explain everything once we get to Neverland," said Tootles, reaching out for her hand again. 

Rather than placing her hand in his, Wendy kept hugging it close to herself. He wanted her to go with him to Neverland? Everything was happening so fast. She wanted answers. Why had Tootles changed from the little boy she had left behind? How had he gotten into her room without her noticing? And why on earth was he there without Peter? It was all so strange.

"Wendy?" Tootles called, falteringly. Tinkerbell came to land on his shoulder, whispering for him to abandon Wendy and for them to make their way back to Neverland without her, but he ignored her. "Wendy?"

"Tootles…I'm sorry, but you can't just come into my room in the middle of the night without explaining yourself and expect me to go with you to Neverland," Wendy said quietly, backing away from him. "I…this all happened so fast. I'm not even sure what to think of it yet. I…" She wanted to do the grown up thing and firmly dismiss him and tell him that she would not go back with him because she wanted to grow up, but…

Tootles blinked at her, digesting what she had just told him. "So…if I explain to you why I'm here, you'll come?"

Wendy quickly shook her head. "I can't promise you that, Tootles."

"I'll explain anyway." He sighed and then said, "Peter is dying and you're the only one who can help him."

**End Note: Yes, I know that the chapter seemed sort of vague and perhaps quickly written. Or maybe, just a quick read. I wanted it that way. I don't want too much to be known at once and I definitely don't want to get into the story too fast. So, comments of any kind are fine. But, if you're going to flame, just don't waste your time. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I saw the movie today (December 26), or should I say yesterday because it's now early Saturday morning. On that note, because it's early in the morning, this may have some grammatical errors in which I apologize for now. Basically, it's late and I'm not thinking properly. Now, in regards to the movie. I know what's going to happen. There are going to be a million and one love stories between Peter and Wendy posted on ff.net now. Really, after watching the movie, it's so easy to make this into the loviest doviest thing possible. But that's just not my style. Plus, it's pretty fucking annoying. And I don't want my story to be just another cliché. So, as I've said before, there is romance involved but I'm going to attempt to have it not take over the story. Oh, and sorry I took forever to post. I'm on break now so I have way more time. Hope I'll be able to make at least two more posts before I go back to school. I feel like I'm forgetting something. Oh well. I'll put it in the next chapter. Happy reading. **AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS!** **

_Nothing Gold Can Stay: chapter 2_

**A Day to Think**

"Excuse me?" Wendy said, brow creased. She was certain that she had not heard correctly. It sounded as if Tootles had just said—

"Peter is dying and you're the only one who can save him," Tootles repeated for her. He looked at her, eyes silently pleading that the explanation that he had given was enough.

Wendy's brow just creased even further. She just couldn't understand. The concept of Peter dying was difficult to comprehend—but there was Tootles in front of her, just as grown up as she was. "Dying?" she managed to whisper.

"Yes, dying!" Tinkerbell seemed to bellow. 

Her Peter was dying. She had to go to him. But wait. How on earth could Peter be dying? Did she really believe what she was hearing? How did she know that this was all real? An older Tootles was telling her all this, after all. He couldn't grow up in Neverland. And if all of this was really true, why did Peter need _her all of a sudden? He hadn't seemed to care after he brought her and her brothers back to London._

"Why in the world does he want me to come?" asked Wendy. "He hasn't come to visit me like he promised he would."

"You selfish, selfish girl!" exclaimed Tinkerbell, outraged. "How dare you think of yourself when Peter needs…needs…" She trailed off, trembling. She knew the truth but refused to admit it. Peter needed Wendy, perhaps even more than he needed her. Tinkerbell, not wanting neither Tootles nor Wendy to see her cry, flew out the window as fast as she could, heading back to Neverland.

"Oh, no!" cried Tootles. "Tinkerbell, come back here—oh, _now_ how will she get to Neverland?" he said to himself despairingly, referring to Wendy. "Wendy, you don't have to give me your answer now," said Tootles, rising into the air. "I'll be back tomorrow night. Give me your final answer then. And remember," his eyes looked very serious, "Peter needs you." 

Wendy watched as he flew away, much in the quick fashion that Tinkerbell had. He'd be back tomorrow night, giving her a day to think. Well, she did not need a day to think. She had already made up her mind. She wasn't going. There was no way she could go back there. Neverland meant no growing up and she wanted so badly to grow up.

However, when the next day came, she felt differently. She couldn't make up her mind. She felt like she needed to go. She felt compelled, almost obligated to go. But…something was keeping her. And it did not help when Wendy received a letter from Tom. Thomas Jenkins—or Tom, as she affectionately called him—had been her schoolmate for the past few years. 

It wasn't until recently when he started taking a more than friendly interest in her, and she in him. She remembered when he had kissed her for the first time. It was timid and shy, like their relationship. Now their relationship was mostly through letters. Tom had gone for the summer in hopes of working to save up for college in the fall. He promised he would write to her all the time, even from college.

College. Tom was a year older than her—in college. A practically grown man interested in her, a practically grown woman. Wendy needed to move on with her life. She couldn't go back to Neverland when Tom was in her life. He symbolized the maturity in her.

Wendy, having read the letter three times, was gazing at it. Her knitted brow showed that she was thinking hard. Her mother broke her out of her thoughts.

"Wendy."

She looked across the kitchen at her mother. "Yes, Mother?"

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Darling asked, drying a dish that she had just washed. 

Slowly, Wendy nodded, trying to avoid her mother's eyes. She sensed everything. Like she thought, her mother was not fooled. Mrs. Darling wiped her hands and beckoned her daughter to her. 

"Dear," said Mrs. Darling, who now had to look up at her daughter to meet her eyes. "You've been staring at that letter for quite some time."

Wendy nodded in agreement, feeling uncomfortable.

"Are you sure that everything is alright?"

For a moment, her mother's inviting eyes almost tempted her to tell her everything. But, she resisted. Instead, she said, "Let me finish those dishes for you, Mum." She moved with haste to the sink, rolling up her sleeves and picking up where her mother left off. 

Mrs. Darling watched her daughter, concerned. "Wendy, you know you can tell me anything, don't you, Darling?" 

"Yes, Mother," said Wendy, focusing on the soapy water. 

She _could tell her mother anything—except this. Telling her mother would create another problem within itself. If only she could tell someone…_

Wendy, engrossed in her problem, had forgotten that her brothers were coming home that day. They had spent the first month of summer holiday at their aunt and uncle's house in Canterbury. They had three boys whom John and Michael got along with very well. 

"Hello, Mum!" exclaimed John, upon seeing his mother. He wrapped her up in a big bear hug and lifted her, extracting a delighted but surprised cry from her. 

Michael was next. "Michael!" she cried when John set her down. He embraced her and she showered him with kisses until he protested and swatted her away. Mrs. Darling, in turn, laughed heartily. "I'm so happy that the both of you are back," she sighed, hugging John once more.

Wendy watched as her father followed after the boys, shutting the front door behind him. "Well, Mary," he said to Mrs. Darling while planting a kiss on her cheek, "here they are."

And there they were. Wendy knew how difficult it had been for her mother to let the boys go; she still was not completely over their leaving her for Neverland. Even though Michael was nearly ten and John was fourteen, it had been the first time that the boys had ever been allowed to stay anywhere other than their home. 

"We had such a time!" announced John passionately. He headed for the kitchen, hungry like always, which was normal for a boy his age. The rest of the family followed him. 

"Now, boys, take your bags upstairs," requested Mr. Darling. But his request went unnoticed.

"We swam and hunted and—"

"Hunting!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling. "Why, that sounds like—"

"Such fun," said Mr. Darling, interrupting Mrs. Darling in an attempt to salvage the merriment without her ruining it with her worrying. 

But the boys were quick to see the worry in her eyes. "Don't worry, Mother," said John in a comforting tone. "It was all perfectly safe. We only hunted dear."

"Yes, Mum!" chipped in Michael. "It was all in sport."

"It's those guns I'm worried about. And think of the poor dear. Why hunt it if you aren't going to eat it afterwards?"

Mr. Darling, John, and Michael looked at each other as if to say "It's something that women don't understand."

"What?" asked Mrs. Darling, catching their glances. "What?" She was replied with laughter from the three gentlemen. Her confused look made them laugh even harder until she could not help but join in their laughter.

 Wendy smiled, trying wholeheartedly to join in her family's high spirits but she couldn't do it. She felt like an outsider watching them through a window. Dejectedly, she slipped away to her room and remained there until she heard a rapping on her door. 

"Come in," she called, looking at her door expectantly from atop her bed.

John.

"Wendy," he began, just sticking his head in, hand still on the doorknob. "You've been in your room ever since Michael and I got back. You even missed dinner. Why don't you come out?"

Wendy tried to force a smile. "I…well, I'm not feeling very well," she lied. "But I'll be quick to talk to you tomorrow about Aunt and Uncle's house." She tried to put on a bigger smile but it looked like she was cringing. 

John gazed at her for a moment. "Well, alright," he finally said. It seemed as if he had been debating on whether to take her word or not. "Since you're not feeling well, you'll probably want to go to bed soon." 

She felt bad about lying to her brother and she _did _want to talk to him and hear about his time in Canterbury…just not right then. She had something else to think about. Time was drawing near and Tootles would be back in a few hours; perhaps less. What would she do?

Then it struck her—she would ask John, he was the sensible one! 

"Goodnight, Wendy." John said, swinging the door shut.

"Wait!" called Wendy before he had closed the door entirely.

He stuck his head back in, waiting.

Wendy stared at him, blinking. What was she doing? She could not ask John. He didn't even believe in Peter anymore. How could he help her? "Well…I…" she sighed. Beckoning him closer with her hand, she said, "John, come here. And…shut the door behind you." 

John did as he was told and came to sit on her bed so that he was facing her. 

"Now John," began Wendy in a serious tone. "I have a problem. I—" Looking at him this close, he seemed so menacing with his practical glasses and his practical expression and…Peter Pan was not practical—

"What is it?" John urged, concern forming in his eyes. 

She sighed. "John, do you remember Peter Pan?" she asked him in almost a whisper.

He was quick to answer. "Why of course."

Wendy's eyes brightened. "You-you do?"

"Of course, Wendy. I remember your stories and when we used to play pir—"

Shaking her head furiously, Wendy said, "No, no. Not stories, I mean _him, I mean _Peter._"_

John stared at her for a few moments. "I don't think that I follow you."

This was going to be harder than she thought. She decided to take another route. "John…why is it that this is the first time that you've gone to stay with Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Emma?"

His eyebrow cocked, he said, "I don't know. I've never thought about it."

"You do know that they've asked many times for the two of you to go and spend time with Henry, Francis, and Kenneth," Wendy said, referring to her cousins. 

John nodded.

"And why do you think that Mother and Father, Mother especially, have been so against you going? Going anywhere? Haven't you—all three of us, haven't we been invited to go away many times before?" Wendy pressed.

"Yes, but—"

"And have we ever been allowed to go?"

"I say, Wendy, what is this all about?"

John looked at her and Wendy could see that he honestly had no idea where her train of thought was leading to. "John, do you remember ever running away?"

His brow creased and Wendy knew that he was thinking. Hard. She could see the wheels turning in his head and any moment, smoke threatened to come out of his ears. But alas, he gave no inclination of remembrance. 

I'm not giving up on you just yet, Wendy thought to herself, determined. She would _make him remember. "You were nine and Michael was five and I was twelve. We used to share a room, the three of us. The nursery. Do you remember? And one day, Mother and Father went to a party and it was just us, Liza, and Nana." She stopped to see if there was any sign of him remembering. "And Peter came and took us to Neverland, John. He taught us to fly and fight—"_

She was losing. Wendy saw the look on John's face and knew that he didn't remember. "And we had such fun and…" She tried to meet John's eyes but he would not look at her. "Don't you remember?" she asked, weakly. 

After staring at her for quite some time, John put the back of his hand to Wendy's forehead. Wendy looked at him, puzzled. "No, you're not running a fever," he mumbled to himself. 

Wendy's eyes flickered in annoyance. "John, I am _not sick!_" 

"Well, you said you weren't feeling well."

"I was just saying that so that I could have time to think!" Wendy huffed.

"About what?"

She gazed at him, longingly wishing that she could share with him—but she couldn't. He had failed the test. He had failed miserably and now, she had no one but herself to rely on for the decision. Well, perhaps it was all for the better. An adult made decisions on their own. Why shouldn't she start doing so?

Pushing away the frustration that she had shown earlier, Wendy dismissed his question. No other words were exchanged between the two of them and it was a long time before Wendy, who had told her brother that she was tired and was going to bed, heard the door softly close. 

John was so levelheaded and sure—Wendy had been certain that he would be able to help her. But he did not remember a thing. Not a bloody thing. What was worse, he thought that she was ill. How embarrassing. Her younger brother thought that she was out of her mind. She knew to never bring it up with him again. 

And she knew her answer when Tootles arrived. She knew that it would have to be no. John saw the nonsense in Neverland and flying and Peter Pan. Why couldn't she? Why _wouldn't she? It was time to forget him. _

So she opened her window and she waited. She waited so long that she began to doze, head hanging as she sat in the chair that she had set up by the window. But it was only a short nap. 

The next thing Wendy knew, she was diving into pools of hazel that were flecked with anxiety. Being that she had just woken up, this sight startled her. She gripped the chair's arms and tried to rise, producing a small and quickly muffled scream all the while. 

_"It's just me!" provided Tootles in a hoarse whisper. He backed away at once; that was the closest that he had ever dared to come to Wendy before. He'd always been in awe of her, but had never been face to face with her like that. It unnerved him. _

Tootles was back, with Tinkerbell buzzing about his head. She looked forlorn, even in the way she was flying around, and did not even offer Wendy any sort of insult. Tootles stared at Wendy, waiting for her to make the first move. Wendy, in turn, straightened up and prepped herself for telling him her decision. It would be difficult, but it would be done. Why did she not feel as strong as she wanted to? Opening her mouth to speak, she was interrupted.

"Come, Wendy. The longer we stay here, the longer we delay helping Peter. You're his only chance, remember." 

It all happened so fast, she would think when she looked back on it. Wendy lost herself. She found herself placing her hand in Tootles's hand and responding to when he said, "You know what to do," with a happy thought of her mother. She found herself delighted in the familiar feeling of fairy dust falling about her and rising into the air. She found herself gripping Tootles's hand tighter as he and Tinkerbell guided her out the window. She found herself closing her eyes, bracing herself for the ride.

**End Note: **If you're reading this story and it's right around the time when I posted it, go the fuck to sleep. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **It has been SO LONG. I'm so sorry. I've been mad busy, you don't even know. This chapter is eight pages on my computer…I had to cut it down because I figured that you guys wouldn't want to be at your computers reading for forever, so that's why it kind of just ends. Also, for some reason, the site keeps changing the formatting of my story. I'm hoping that you guys won't notice. 

Oh, and **P.S….**Hope you all remember that **I posted this about** **a month before the movie** came out. Thank you. That is all. Another

_Nothing Gold Can Stay: chapter 3_

**_In A Galaxy, Far, Far Away_**__

They said that he would slit your throat in an instant without a second thought. They said that he would watch the blood run down your neck and offer a laugh for every drop of blood that hit the ground. They said that he drank the blood of his victims for breakfast the next day. They didn't call him Slit-Your-Throat Slim for nothing.

The mermaids had reported seeing him engaged in a fight with one of his shipmates. He was nimble and quick, striking you this way and jabbing you that way. He wielded a sword like it was a feather, handling it with ease. He always fought fair until he got bored. Then, he would go in for the kill and you would not even know that you had been wounded. He went for the neck every time, of course. They didn't call him Slit-Your-Throat Slim for nothing. 

He had fought Pan himself. He had fought Pan and survived. He had even managed to cut a bit of him off and bring it to Hook as a souvenir. They didn't call him Slit-Your-Throat Slim for nothing. 

 Yes, he was a ruthless pirate indeed. Or, so it would seem. Most times, when Slim was by himself, he was not half bad. He even considered himself good, or at least, better than the other pirates. Most times. If you excluded what he had done to make a name for himself on the Jolly Roger…

But that was all in the past now. He could not look back. Chin up and head towards the future. That was the motto that Captain Hook lived by and advocated it to his crew. Then again, Captain Hook lived by many a motto. Slim supposed it depended on the mood that he was in. 

Even though Slim always tried to forget the past, he could never forget his run in with Peter Pan. Pan would always be the scratch on the roof of his mouth. And even though Pan's lost boys had nothing to do with his hatred for Pan himself, they were still _Pan's_ lost boys. Perhaps that is why Slim made the decision that he did that day. 

It had started out as any other morning. The sun was out and the sky was quite clear. Slim paused his mop for a moment and took in the cool sea breeze that was blowing through the deck of the Jolly Roger. He took a deep breath and then sighed. How long had it been since he had paused like this to just...be? Too long. 

"Keep up with your work there, lad," advised Robert Mullins, clapping him on the back. 

"Can't a man take a break?" asked Slim.

"Sure," said Cecco. "A _man_ can!" he said half-jokingly, smiling his yellow smile. Mullins, laughing along with Cecco, clapped Slim on the back again and then walked away. 

Slim was a man! He was a man as much as the others were. Well, maybe not _quite_, but nearly. Near enough. Damn near enough. And near enough made it true, did it not? He was young, but he was as brave and fierce as any of the men on that ship. Frustration filled him. He was always being teased. It wasn't his fault that he was younger than all the other pirates were. Couldn't they ease up on him every once in a while?

Billy Jukes approached him, telescope in hand. He was shifting it in his hands carelessly. "Forget about it," he said as carelessly as he was twirling the telescope in his hands. 

"Forget about what?" asked Slim, harshly. 

"You know what I'm talking about. Don't let your anger get the best of you." Slim sighed. Billy knew him too well. "And besides," Bill continued. "You're not the only young one. Before you came, I was the youngest. We're in this together." Billy was right. They were in this together. They had been through a lot together. 

Slim looked up at the sky. It was a nice day. There was no reason to be angry. But wait, what did he see moving in the sky? It was too big to be a bird. In fact, he thought it was—

"Let me see your telescope," Slim asked, urgently. 

"Why, what do you—hey!"

Slim grabbed the telescope from Billy Jukes's hands and pointed it at the sky, looking through it. Just as he thought. It was a boy. He could not tell if it was Peter Pan or not, but if it was not Peter, then it had to be one of the lost boys. Now, as it had always been with him, Slim held no personal ill will towards the boys, but because they were Pan's boys, he hated them as well. Perhaps if he had not felt this way, he would not have alerted the crew. Perhaps.

"Lost boy, lost boy!" yelled Slim, pointing at the sky and running for Long Tom. 

Mr. Smee alerted the Captain at once while the men readied Long Tom. The ship buzzed with excitement. It had been so long since anyone had been spotted flying the skies near the ship. 

The Captain, who had not even fastened his hook to his stub of right arm came flying out of his cabin, bare chested, hair flying behind him. "Quickly, men!" Captain Hook barked, searching the skies. "If you lose him, it'll be your lives!" 

Hurriedly, the men lit Long Tom and aimed him at their oblivious target.

~

Wendy could not help but laugh when she saw the island stretched before her. The familiar sight that never left her memories, the sight that played in her dreams, was here in front of her now. So many feelings pressed themselves upon her at once. The thought of arriving at a place that she had to convince herself of actually existing repeatedly overwhelmed her. There it was right in front of her! So close…and the thought of seeing Peter again…

Tinkerbell, flying near Wendy, turned around and blew a raspberry at her. She then quickly darted away, laughing as she went. Wendy's brow furrowed in annoyance. That pest! If she had the chance, she would—wait, where was Tootles? 

Tootles had been flying so fast that she had not even noticed herself falling behind. "Tootles!" she called out, flying as fast as she could. It had been so long since she had flown that she did not nearly have the same control that she once had. "Tootles!" she called again, urgently. And, oh, now she had gone and lost sight of Tinkerbell. 

Tootles, meanwhile, heard Wendy's distant cry and paused to allow her to catch up. Tinkerbell joined him momentarily and finally Wendy could be seen emerging through the cotton candy clouds, slowly making her way towards them. 

"She's so slow," commented Tinkerbell.

Tootles watched her anxiously, silently urging her to fly faster. They were right above the island now and very near the Jolly Roger. It would not be long until they reached Peter. Wendy was quite close now—

_"Look out!"_ cried Tinkerbell, fear etched in her voice. 

What was he supposed to be looking out for? Tootles looked around and saw nothing. Wendy was almost to him now. 

_"Long Tom!"_ screamed Tinkerbell. She heaved Tootles by the ear, pulling him out of the path of the cannonball hurtling through the air. But there was still Wendy…

_"Wendy!" _cried Tootles. He flew towards her and managed to grab her hand before attempting to fly out of the way but it was too late. He felt the cannonball hit his foot, causing him to flip and go flying through the air out of control. 

Everything happened so fast for Wendy. She did not see what had hit Tootles, but when it made the impact, Tootles let go of her hand and let out such a wail of pain that it seemed to carry Wendy away from him. She could not help but let out a cry of her own as she sped towards the water below. 

Torn, Tinkerbell did not know what to do. She watched in horror as Tootles went spinning one way and Wendy speedily fell to the water. Tootles was a lost boy and she would never hesitate to help a lost boy, but Wendy was important now too. Wendy was needed to help Peter. Tinkerbell couldn't possibly help them both at once. But she had to choose…

Frantically, she flew after Wendy and caught the tip of her dressing gown right before she hit the water. However, this did not stop Wendy from getting wet. Tinkerbell pulled up the gown, causing Wendy to hang by the arms and endure being dunked in the water. Finally, Tinkerbell gave up on the dressing gown and settled on pulling Wendy by the neck of her nightgown, choking her all the way.

Upon reaching shore, Wendy sputtered and coughed while gripping her neck, taking deep breaths, happy that she could breathe correctly again. Then, after resting awhile, she advanced on the fairy hovering above her. "Were you trying to kill me?" she demanded. 

The fairy was furious. She had tried to help the brat and this is how she repaid her? "I was trying to help you!" she replied, heated. 

"By attempting to choke me?" retorted Wendy. 

"I sacrificed Tootles for you—Tootles! We have to help him!"

Wendy looked around fearfully. If Tootles was not on the shore with Tinkerbell and her, then he must have been in the water. 

"What are you doing?" asked Tinkerbell, watching Wendy wade into the water and swim from shore. 

But Wendy did not answer. She was determined to find the boy who had just sacrificed himself for her—even if he _did _cause her to fall from an abominable height in the air. Continuing to ignore Tinkerbell's yells for her to come back to shore, she submerged herself in the water. Although it was difficult to see, she frantically looked around for Tootles until she became short of breath and had to come up for air.

"Come back!" commanded Tinkerbell. "Come back this instant! He's not there!"

Not there? Wendy took a moment to let the words register and then swam back to shore. "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Wendy, her clothing heavy with water. She began to wring out her dressing gown and then, her nightgown. 

"I tried. I asked you what you were doing but you insisted on ignoring me." Tinkerbell looked fearfully beyond shore. There, perched regally on the water, was the Jolly Roger in all its horrid glory. With the way things had occurred, Tootles had been lucky enough to fall right beside the Jolly Roger. His lucked continued to serve him well when he was hoisted out of the water and onto the ship. "They must have seen us coming," she said. "But if they saw you fall too, they'll be out to look for you."

"Yes," agreed Wendy, slowly.  "We must find Peter at once, mustn't we?" 

Wordlessly, Tinkerbell flew into the forest behind them and Wendy tentatively followed her. She was not sure if she trusted Tinkerbell completely. What if the fairy tried to endanger her like she had when she tricked the lost boys into shooting her down? Wendy slowed down with each step. What if she lured her into the forest and…and…Wendy had completely stopped by now. Tinkerbell had always hated her and had been jealous of her. What if nothing had changed? In fact, what made Wendy so sure that Tinkerbell had changed? 

Tinkerbell stopped too, seeing that Wendy had trailed behind. Did she really think that there was time for her to be slowing down like she was? They needed to go find Peter right away. And why didn't she fly? "Fly!" commanded Tinkerbell, quickly making a halo of fairy dust over Wendy's head in case she needed a bit of a "boost." 

Wendy slowly lifted herself in the air, but then just as slowly touched the earth again. That was just what Tinkerbell wanted, wasn't it? For her to fly after her. And Tinkerbell would fly faster and faster and faster, and Wendy would have no choice but to try and keep up. Soon, Wendy would fly out of control and not be able to stop herself from spinning into the depths of whatever Tinkerbell had thought most suitable to dispose of her. 

"We haven't the time to waste!" Tinkerbell urged. 

Shakily, Wendy said, "I'm sorry, Tinkerbell…I can't go with you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I…" Tinkerbell was flying very close to her now, so close that she could see the annoyed expression on her face. But no, she could not back down now. "I can't go with you."

"You mean, you don't want to help Tootles?" asked Tinkerbell, her tone incredulous.  

"No! I mean, yes!" When the fairy put it that way, it sounded terrible. Of _course _she wanted to help Tootles. He had saved her life, after all. "I want to help Tootles. I just can't go with you."

"But we need to go and find Peter."

"Well…why don't _you_ go and find him? By yourself? I can stay here and wait for you."

Tinkerbell glared at the girl, confused. This was no time for games! What kind of game was she trying to play? But, what was the harm in letting Wendy stay? She would most likely be able to reach Peter faster without Wendy. Quickly, Tinkerbell scanned the area. She could not possibly leave Wendy here. It was too close to the Tree. Well, Peter and one of the twins had been the only ones who the Tree had ever revealed itself to, so she supposed that Wendy would be alright by herself. And if anything were to try and harm her, she could always fly. 

"If you are attacked by some creature, it is not my problem!" Tinkerbell declared before flying off. 

Wendy's eyes followed her, filling with fear as the realization set in: she could be attacked. Why had she not thought of that? Stupid, stupid, stupid. But it did not matter much, did it? She could fly…_if_ she could keep a clear head and think happy thoughts. How that would be possible if she came face to face with some four-eyed thing with two rows of teeth was beyond her—

A sharp noise caught between her ears and she jumped, squeaking. Wendy began to walk again, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Goosebumps dressed her skin, but they were not from being cold. Fear had called them. 

The deeper she walked into the forest, the more in tune with it she seemed to get. Wendy's senses seemed to pick up everything. The feel of the forest air on her skin, which seemed to have a thick texture that the air outside the forest did not have. The smell of urine, signaling an animal faster and stronger than she marking its territory. Even the sound of the smallest creatures as they struggled to fight their way out of the spider web that held them capture. 

She disliked it. It was too much. The forest was imposing itself on her and it was too much. It was pressing itself upon her, asking her to join it. It was the spider web and she was the fly. It was too much. 

And there was a voice that crept into her mind, slithering around corners, speaking to her in it commanding way. _"Come."_

And she knew where to go, where to step. She could have done it in her sleep. She had been there before, but it had not guided there. She had found her way there from memory all the other times, but this time, it led her. _"Come."_

And she was afraid no longer. The voice soothed her. It soothed her so that she forgot why she was there in the first place. It soothed her so that she forgot about Tinkerbell and Tootles and even Peter. _"Come."_

And she went. She went and went and did not stop until she came to a large tree. Its roots were gnarled and uprooted while its branches were large and looming. But, she was not afraid. She had been there before, after all. 

Wendy pushed a knothole, allowing her to enter the hollow tree. Then, after landing at the bottom of a tunnel, darkness surrounded her. After a few moments of standing in the darkness, the soothing feeling left her. Alarm filled her. 

_Where am I?_

_How did I get here?_

She jumped when suddenly, there was light. Quickly seeing that a dimly lit candle was the source of light before her, she turned when another candle lit. And another. The entire room was filled with candles and they were one by one lighting themselves. They were stuck on various things by their melted wax and nestled in knotholes. A fireplace lit itself, adding to the brilliance. 

Her eyes widened with recognition. She knew where she was. The hideout. "But…where is Tinkerbell?" she asked herself aloud, remembering that Tinkerbell had left her to fetch Peter from the hideout. "And Peter?" 

Turning so that her back was to the rest of the room, Wendy realized what had happened. Tinkerbell must have gotten to Peter and they flew to the Jolly Roger—without her. "That fairy!" cried Wendy in frustration. Peter probably did not even know she was in Neverland! 

"What's eating you?" came another voice that was not her own. 

Swiftly, she spun around, startled, to find two boys across the room—one by the fireplace and one with his feet propped at the long table. I thought that I was alone, thought Wendy, her brow furrowing. She examined the boy whose face she could see, the one whose feet were propped up, and recognized him. 

"Nibs!" cried Wendy, happily. He looked older than he'd been when she had left Neverland for good, about thirteen or fourteen, but she still knew that it was him. But he did not answer her. Perhaps he did not hear her. After trying again, she frowned, watching him. He hadn't even looked in her direction when she called his name. Why was he ignoring her?

"I said, what's eating you?" asked Nibs once again, tipping back and forth in his chair. 

So he wanted her to answer his question. "Well," began Wendy, "Tinkerbell—"

"I'm talking to you, Slightly," called Nibs to the boy at the fireplace, interrupting Wendy. 

Wendy walked towards the fireplace to examine the boy. It _was_ Slightly, and he looked to be either thirteen or fourteen just as Nibs did. He was poking at the embers with a stick, a scowl on his face. Tears were slowly making their way down his cheeks and he did not even bother to wipe them away. 

Wendy could not bear it. Her "son" was crying. "What's the matter, Slightly?" she asked, kneeling beside him. She placed her hand on his back, gently moving it up and down. Urging him to face her, she said, "It's me, Wendy. I'm back." 

He did not look at her, however. It was almost as if he did not hear her. "Slightly," tried Wendy again. "Won't you stop crying?" She reached over to wipe his tears off his face but strangely, they did not come off of his skin. Her fingertips were not even moist. 

Nibs walked over to them, squatting beside Slightly on the other side. "Are those tears?" he asked incredulously. 

Slightly replied by knocking the other boy off of his feet, getting up and taking his place where Nibs had just been sitting. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Nibs a dark, unnerving look. 

Picking himself up, Nibs placed himself across the table from Slightly. "What's the matter?"

Wendy, too, sat at the table, waiting for Slightly's answer. But it didn't come.

"Come on, Slightly. I know something's the matter. You're crying—"

"I'm. Not. _Crying,_" retorted Slightly, wiping the tears from his cheeks. 

"Okay, okay," said Nibs, hands up in defense. A smile was playing at the corner of his mouth. "I take it that your eyes are just sweating, then?"

 Either Nibs or Wendy did not expect what came next. Slightly stood, picked up his chair, and threw it, crying out in anger. "Everything's a bloody joke with you, isn't it? A bloody, fucking—"

It was Nibs's turn to stand. "Wendy wouldn't like that language from you—"

"Wendy's not here! Wendy's not here and she's never coming back! Ever!" 

Nibs was quiet, his eyes downcast. 

"But I'm here!" cried Wendy. "I'm right here!"

"The sooner all of you realize that, the better off we'll be," spat Slightly. 

"Don't say that," Nibs commanded. 

"Slightly, Nibs, I'm here!"

"She should have never come here in the first place," continued Slightly. "We all would have been better off without her—especially Peter." 

"No…" whispered Wendy. 

"Don't say that!" 

"Peter is a worthless, no good coward!" 

Nibs unsheathed his sword, bringing the point to Slightly's neck. "Take that back," he growled. "Take it all back!" 

Quickly, Slightly back-flipped, landing clumsily, so that there would be enough distance between he and Nibs when he unsheathed his own sword. He charged at him, climbing over the table, but Nibs was ready for him and their swords clashed. "Do you want to know what the matter with me is?" asked Slightly. _"You!"_

"What are you talking about?" 

"_I'm_ the better swordsman!" grunted Slightly, blocking Nibs's thrust. 

"We're just as good as each other—"

"_I'm _older!"

"You don't know that—"

"_I'm _smarter!"

"Slightly—"

_"I'm better!"_

Their swords became a blur as Wendy watched in wonder, slowly backing away until she hit the wall and sunk to the floor. 

"And still," Slightly continued, breathing heavily. "Peter likes you more!" 

 Nibs deflected a hit and forcefully pushed Slightly back, yielding. "That's what this is about?"

"It doesn't matter what I do," said Slightly, his sword firmly held at his side, his eyes to the floor. He and Nibs were both panting, trying to catch their breath from their short duel. "Do you remember when Peter was away and Curly got himself captured by pirates and I made the plan to rescue him? Do you remember what Peter said? 'Good work, Nibs. That's why you're second-in-command.'" 

Nibs remained silent.

"And do you remember when we were playing on the high rocks by the shore and Twin fell and broke his leg and I made a splint for him? I was the one who carried him to the red skins so that they could help him. Do you know what Peter said? 'Good work, Nibs. I can always count on you.'" 

"Slightly…"

"And this morning, when you and I found that giant wolf in the woods and it had you pinned—_I_ killed it. I spent so long skinning it to give the fur to Peter. I even saved some of the teeth for him. And when you told him the story of what happened in the forest, do you know what he said?"

"Slightly—"

"'It's a good thing that you killed it, Nibs. It's a good thing or you would have been a goner for sure.' And he flew away, without so much as look at my wolf fur." The tears were back now, falling slowly and defiantly. "I've always wondered why he never loved me the way he loved you. I've always wondered why I was always second best, why he was never proud of me. Just once…" 

Wendy watched, misty eyed. She wanted to go to Slightly and hold him. She wanted to tell him that Peter did not mean it, that, at times, Peter had made her feel the exact same way when it had come to Tiger Lily. Deep down, Wendy knew that it was not an intentional act. He was just too innocent to understand. He didn't understand that, even though he was pleased with everyone, he needed to show it. 

Nibs walked to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's not like that, Slightly. It's not like that at all." Slightly shrugged the hand from the shoulder but Nibs firmly put it back. "Peter is proud of you. He's proud of all of us."

"Don't touch me," muttered Slightly. "You can't possibly understand." 

Let him help you, Wendy urged Slightly, silently. He just wants to help you. Let him. 

"I can try to understand, Slightly."

"No." He raised his sword, trying to put a barrier between the two of them.

Nibs was silent for awhile before saying, "You can be second-in-command, if that's what you want."

This only flared Slightly's anger. "I do not need your pity!" His sword was still raised. "I'm better than you! I can earn it!" 

"Slightly—" Nibs advanced on Slightly. Slightly, in turn, made a move to push him back with no regards to the sword in his hand.

When it happened, Wendy screamed so horribly that she was sure that Tootles would come running from the Jolly Roger. Her stomach knotted and clenched in reaction to the horrendous thing that had just happened. 

Slightly, meanwhile, was looking at his sword in disbelief. His belief was confirmed when he saw Nibs wriggling on the floor, clutching his neck in an attempt to stop the blood that was surging from the open would at his throat.

Slightly had just slit Nibs's throat.

He fell to his knees, pressing his own hands to Nibs's throat, eyes wide and moist. All the anger was flowing out of him, along with the blood that was flowing out of Nibs. "Nibs," he croaked. "Nibs, I didn't mean it! I-I never meant to—please, you can't—it was an accident!"

Nibs, on the other hand, could not respond even if he wanted to. Especially since things were getting especially dim for him. 

"Please, Nibs. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." By now, Slightly was sobbing and so was Wendy, watching the sight before her. "You can't do this, Nibs. Don't do this to me. You can't do this. I didn't mean—the sword slipped. I didn't know what I was doing. I promise, Nibs, we'll never fight again."

It did not matter how much Slightly begged and pleaded because Nibs had just died at his hands and there was no way that he could bring him back. 

**End Note:** So…was it worth the wait? Let me know. You know what to do. Thanks for reading.


	5. Ch 3 Note

****

Chapter Three Note: I noticed, after posting chapter three, that it looks like I've made grammatical errors. For instance, where my "dot dot dot" should be, (due to the website changing my formatting, I'm forced to actually say "dot dot dot" instead of just writing it--I'm not a dumbass) there is just a period, taking away from the trailing off effect that I wanted to give. There may be other things, but I can't think of them at the moment. I'm just letting you know that they are not errors, but the site. The last time I posted was December and since then, I guess they've changed formatting. It sucks. A lot. I'm trying to bypass it but until then, it's gonna be the way it is. I'm sorry. **The only reason I'm bothering to post this anyway is because I HATE stories filled with grammatical errors. **Thanks for understanding.


	6. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I believe that the last time I posted a chapter was December 26. That's a damn long time. I've been busy with school and stuff. Well, I'm on summer vacation now…so…yay. I feel like this chapter is a bit weak. You be the judge.

_Nothing Gold Can Stay: chapter four_

**_Unhappy Thoughts_**

She awoke in darkness, groggy, with the smell of vomit wafting around her. Her own vomit.

_There had been so much blood…_

She had watched in horror as Nibs had clung to his life as it left him little by little. She had watched as Slightly apologized repeatedly, begging Nibs not to leave him and attempting to stop the blood that swiftly escaped his body from his neck. She had listened to Slightly cry out in despair when Nibs had let go, when he had breathed his last breath and his dead eyes gazed back at Slightly, taunting him. She had expressed how dismayed and disgusted she was by vomiting everywhere, and then blacking out soon after.

And now it was dark, and Wendy was terribly frightened. She could see nothing and the quietness unnerved her. Had Slightly gone? Was Nibs still there, lying alone in the darkness? How would she get out? She needed to find Peter!

Wendy stood, feeling around blindly for some indication of a way out. If only she could see…

Then, she heard it, the frantic jingle-jangle of little bells that could only be identified as a fairy. She watched, wide-eyed as its light came shining down from the tunnel that she had slid down from.

"Tinkerbell!" she cried, relieved. It was the first time that she was ever happy to see her.

The fairy speedily flew past her and Wendy turned to watch it. It paused and then seemed to blow out fairy dust. The fairy dust had a mind of its own, splitting in every direction and re-lighting all the candles, including the fireplace.

Nibs was no longer where Slightly had been crying over him. There was no evidence of a scuffle. In fact, there was quite a bit of dust covering every surface and spider webs had made their claim.

She crossed the room, confusion draping her face. She had just seen this place…why did it seem like it had been untouched for years?

"Tinkerbell?" said Wendy, still examining the room. "Tinkerbell, this is so strange. This room is not the same as it was before."

No reply.

Wendy turned around, expecting to see the fairy there. "Tinkerbell?" called Wendy when she did not see her. "Where are you?" Once again, there was no answer. Annoyance settled in among the confusion and apprehension. "Come out, Tinkerbell!"

She waited a few moments before sitting on the ground in a huff. What was she to do now? This was unbelievable. Nothing was happening the way it should have. She should never have come. It was her fault about Tootles, she had seen Nibs die at the hands of Slightly (or had she?—the underground house displayed no sign), and Tinkerbell would not even reveal herself.

And if Tinkerbell was here with her, then where was Peter?

"Tinkerbell," tried Wendy again. "Won't you come out? Please?" Standing up to the sound of silence, she looked around. She needed to get out. Desperately.

The desperation that she was feeling brought about other feelings, feelings that she had forgotten for the moment. Although there was no evidence of a fight, the feeling of horror from Nibs's death returned, as well as the feeling of apprehension as to how Tootles was faring. Everything was going wrong and she did know what to do. Wendy tried to hold back her tears but she failed and the tears came.

Soon, her ears caught something other than her own crying. Bells. Wendy lifted her hand to her face, wiping her tears and expecting to see Tinkerbell.

He was absolutely beautiful with black hair and very fine features. He floated in front of her, grace glowing around his tiny frame. "You're…you're not…Tinkerbell," breathed Wendy, taking in his beauty.

His blue eyes flickered and a smile crossed his face, as he spoke in his fairy language.

"I'm sorry," said Wendy, "but I don't quite understand..."

"I said, hello beautiful lady. You may call me Ren," he said, bowing.

Wendy smiled in delight. How charming. And he continued to be graceful in his every movement.

"We must leave here at once, for this place is cursed." He tugged her finger and, surprisingly, he was quite strong.

Like Tinkerbell, thought Wendy. She let him lead her out of the underground house through an alternate way than she had arrived, and even let him pull her a few feet from the tree before planting her feet. "Wait," said Wendy. There were so many unanswered questions. She paused. Where to begin?

The pause was long enough to allow time for another fairy to arrive, an older, rather stout one who spoke to Ren quite frantically. Wendy could not understand, of course, but she inferred that Ren was being scolded by the way the stout fairy was wagging his finger. Ren retorted and the two fairies began to argue. Finally, Ren retreated and turned to Wendy.

"I am sorry," he quickly apologized. "I must go." He gave Wendy the smallest kiss that she had ever received, right on the apple of her cheek. It left a very pleasant, tingling feeling and she touched the spot, seeing that her finger was coated with fairy dust. "There," Ren whispered into her ear. "Now we will meet again. Just call out my name." He soared above her head no more than three times, creating a halo of fairy dust that rained down on her. "May your thoughts be happy until we next meet."

And they were happy. Wendy was promptly elevated and she watched Ren fly away while the stout fairy trailed behind him, scolding all the way.

How strange. Everything had gotten progressively stranger since she had arrived on the island. And poor Tootles…how selfish she had been to forget him while she had been with Ren, however short a time it had been. And what about what had happened in the underground house?

Wendy now realized how high she was floating. She had now surpassed the treetops. Discovering this, she stopped herself with moderate difficulty, as she was still not used to flying. The sun said that it was quite past noon. How long had she been in the hideout?

Surveying the area, she saw the Jolly Roger in the far distance. Tootles, she thought, gazing at the ship. Firmly, she pursed her lips together. She would go to the ship. Assuming that Peter and Tinkerbell were already there, she would go and she would go without fear.

On the contrary, Tinkerbell and Peter were not at the ship as Wendy had assumed. They were quite far from it.

"Peter!" Tinkerbell cried urgently. She found him lying in his hammock, dozing, and pulled on his hair to jolt him. "Peter! Tootles is in trouble!"

He stood slowly, rubbing whatever sleep that remained out of his eyes. "What sort of trouble?"

"He was hit by Long Tom and now Hook has him."

Peter's face dropped and Tinkerbell could see fear in his eyes before he quickly averted them. "Hook?" he said, quietly, not looking at her.

"Hook! No time to waste!" She tugged on him, urging him to make a move. "Peter!"

Peter shook his head in an attempt to throw out his fear. He took his sword and could not help but gaze at it for an instant. It had been so long since his last real adventure…since he had last seen Hook…

The fear took him once again and he tried to forget about it, rising into the air and out of his tree house into the sky. However, he was only in the sky for a few moments before slowly sinking to the ground.

"What are you doing?" Tinkerbell asked after having watched him land.

Ignoring her, Peter once again lifted himself into the air, but even more quickly than last time, his feet touched the earth. It was almost as if there was something heavy tied to each of his feet in an effort to bring him down. "I don't know what the matter is," he said, puzzled. "I can't—I can't seem to—"

Fly. He could not seem to fly. But Tinkerbell would not let him say it. She was afraid that if he actually said it, it would be true. Before he could finish his sentence, Tinkerbell blew her dust on him and watched as he lifted himself into the air with ease. This time, he stayed afloat. She smiled in relief. "To Hook!" she shouted, in triumph.

No sooner than she had said Hook, Peter fell to the ground, landing in an ungraceful mess. He lay there stunned before getting up. "Again!" he called to Tinkerbell, requesting more fairy dust. But it was no use. He ran, jumped, and fell flat on his face, crying out as his sheathed sword jabbed into his side.

"Peter…" Tinkerbell whispered to herself as realization settled in. Peter could no longer fly.

Peter pulled himself to his knees with his rear in the air and his face and fists to the ground. "Why, Tinkerbell?" he demanded, pounding a confused fist on the ground. "Why?"

How could Tinkerbell answer his question if she herself had the same one? This had never happened before. He had been able to fly since she had taught him how. All he had to do was think happy thoughts…

That was it. He could not fly because he was not thinking happy thoughts. But did it matter? Peter was different from others in that he could fly without thinking a happy thought. It was part of what made him Peter Pan. As long as he still possessed a happy thought, as long as there was one stowed away somewhere in the depths of his mind, he had the ability to fly.

And now that Peter could not fly, Tinkerbell realized one thing: Peter had no happy thoughts. They had gone, dissolved into nothingness.

"More fairy dust," said Peter, still on the ground. "I'll fly."

Tinkerbell landed on the ground so that she was face to face with Peter. "Peter," she said, her tone grave. "You haven't needed fairy dust since the day I found you."

"More dust," ordered Peter.

"Listen to me. It isn't only fairy dust that you need. You know that." He just stared at her with blank eyes. "Just one happy thought, Peter," she whispered, placing her hands on his nose and leaning closer. "Just one and it will lift you into the air. Just one…"

Peter stood so suddenly that it startled the fairy, and she flew to remain face to face with him. He glared at her before saying, "I haven't any."

The Jolly Roger, Tootles had long ago concluded, was where he was now. It was the only explanation for why he was locked in a cell.

He thought of Wendy, hoping that she was alright. Tinkerbell will look after her, Tootles reasoned with himself. But, giving Wendy and Tinkerbell's past experiences with each other, his reasoning did not possess much strength. Still, this time was different. This time was important.

Everything was a bit hazy except for one thing. He would never forget the feeling of the cannonball colliding with his left leg. The pain was as clear ever. And the pain he was feeling at that particular moment was not much less than when Long Tom had hit him.

But the peculiar part was that his leg had been bandaged. Why? They were pirates, after all. They would never think to set and bandage his leg. Was this some sort of game that Hook was playing? In exchange for helping Tootles, he would be forced to lead them to Peter? If not, who would think to tend to his leg? Who—

Tootles grew attentive when he heard the sound of his cell being unlocked. The pirate had his head down and his hat low so that his face could not be seen. Finally, he opened the cell door and stepped inside.

"The Cap'n wants you on deck." It was Slit-Your-Throat Slim.

A feeling of hatred spread through Tootles when he saw the pirate's face. Now he knew who had tended to his leg. "I'll need a little help," scowled Tootles. "Since you're so good at helping," he mumbled under his breath, referring to his leg.

Slim pulled Tootles up and let him lean on him for support. "How's…how's the leg?" he asked, meekly. He began to walk, slowly so that Tootles could walk at a comfortable pace.

"Why do you care?" spat Tootles. "You shouldn't have helped me. You're a coward and traitor and I don't accept help from cowards _or_ traitors."

Slim stopped upon hearing Tootles stinging declaration.

"In fact," said Tootles, letting go of Slim and putting all his weight on his right leg, "I don't need your help. I can walk myself." However, this was a lie that was obvious to the both of them. It was so obvious that it had the power to knock Tootles over after just one hobble and cause him to cry out in pain.

Sighing, Slim bent over and extended his hand. Tootles stared at it and then took it with loathing.

Once on deck, Tootles was greeted with the familiar faces of pirates whom he had not seen in quite some time. They were gathered around, bunched together, waiting for him in anticipation. There were many times when Tootles found himself in this same situation, in a situation where he found himself surrounded by pirates. But this time struck him more than the others did. This time, he was alone.

And at the head of the bunch was the "Cap'n" himself, Captain Hook. "Why hello, Tootles, is it?" smiled Hook.

"Yes, Cap'n," said Slim, answering for Tootles. They had settled in front of Hook and Tootles shot Slim a look of malice that Hook immediately picked up.

"A bit of animosity between old comrades, I see," he commented to no one in particular. "Perhaps you two would like to sort it out? In a duel?"

Now, Tootles was never that skilled in combat to begin with. And knowing who his opponent was did not better things. He had heard the stories about Slim. He liked his neck in tack and preferred to keep it that way. Subconsciously, he found himself rubbing his throat nervously.

"I thought you might find that idea a bit distasteful," said Hook, smiling. "Then maybe you would like to tell me where Pan has been hiding all this time."

Tootles refused to look at Hook, thus, giving his answer in the act of avoiding Hook's eyes.

"Your loyalty has not waned, like others," said Hook. He watched as Tootles flashed Slim a dirty look and then set his eyes to the ground again. "Are you sure you don't have anything to tell me?"

Tootles remained silent.

"No matter," said Hook, sounding nonchalant. "My men and I are in dire need of entertainment. You and Slim will duel when the sun goes down. How about it, men? How does that sound?" asked Hook, earning cheering from his crew. "You have until sundown to think it over," Hook told Tootles over the crew's cheering.

Tootles was sentenced to death at sundown.

**End Note:** So…was it weak? I don't know, I'm just getting back into the swing of things. I'm also thinking about kicking it up a notch, you know, making the rating go higher. I've got things in mind…some romantic things that I've been thinking about since the very beginning, as well as some other things...so, thanks for reading and thank you for all the reviews. Please, don't forget to review. It helps. Thanks again.


	7. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **First of all, I'd like to thank all those who have reviewed so far. Secondly, I'd like to just say that after getting through with writing this chapter, I've come to realize that this chapter and the last chapter merely serve as sort of "transition chapters." You know, sort of a gateway into the more important chapters. Basically, this chapter and last chapter I feel aren't as well done. I don't know. I'm doubting myself. Thirdly, I ask that after reading this, in the future if you're looking for the story, please check the rated R stories as well. I'm not saying that this will necessarily be rated R, but it's just a precaution. Fourthly, it's late and I'm in a lot of physical pain right now and I'm not feeling too well (death in the family), so please, forgive me for my grammar mistakes. I feel like there's a ton that my tired eyes aren't catching. Thank you and enjoy the chapter.

**Important!!!!:** This is NOT based on the movie. I repeat, this is NOT based on the movie. It's not even necessarily based on the book either, or anything for that matter. People, have you forgotten what fanfiction is for? It's for molding things into your own creations. With that said, before my ass gets chewed off by someone, _I don't own Peter Pan or Neverland or anything that goes along with it. J.M. Barrie does._ I highly recommend, for all you people who just watched the movie and that's it, that you read the book, by the way.

_Nothing Gold Can Stay: chapter five_

**_The Mermaid Lagoon_**

The mermaids always seemed more threatening at night than during the day. At night, they could hide their ugliness in the moonlit sky. At night, they were eerie and mysterious, but in an elegant manner. At night, it was easier to be taken in, entranced, by their darkness. At night, they were beautiful. They were creatures that would captivate you enough so that you would be questioning the beauty and malice that you had seen in their eyes, even as they drowned you. Drowning was an art form that they took to be both beautiful and malicious.

Now, seeing as it was not quite dark yet, the mermaids did not have much to offer for enticement and Wendy was not as enamored with them as she had been on previous occasions. But, there was one thing that they had: their song. However, this did not prove to be a dilemma to Wendy, for the knowledge of the power of their song went unbeknownst to her.

She was at the Mermaid Lagoon for one reason. Whatever was happening on the Jolly Roger, the mermaids would know about. She had learned that from Peter. Peter, who the mermaids respected and adored. Wendy's only dilemma was that the mermaids did not adore her, or even respect her at that. However, whatever predicament that Wendy thought that she possessed was not as extreme as she thought it to be. You see, the mermaids did not remember her. It had been too long since they had seen her with the boy they loved, too long since they had felt the burning jealousy. They would not show her any respect, but they would treat her no more poorly than they treated any other girl.

Wendy landed on the rocky shore of the Lagoon, making sure to stay a safe distance. She quickly bunched her nightgown up above her knees and tied it into a knot to prevent any unsuspecting hands from pulling her into the water. Then, slowly, she edged as close as she dared, beckoning to them with a shaky "Hello."

They did not cease their playing and grooming. Wendy tried again with even less confidence than before. Still, it was to no avail. In a bit of frustration, she kicked a stone into the water. The stone sent a small pattern of ripples towards one mermaid who was lounging quietly by herself. She noticed the rippling and soon noticed Wendy as well.

Just as quietly as she had been lounging on her own, she submerged herself in the water and did not reappear until she could touch the rocky shore that Wendy had made her retreat. She smiled at Wendy sweetly, silently inviting her to come closer.

Although Wendy's gut feeling warned her away, she did the opposite, approaching the mermaid and even crouching down when the mermaid waved her closer. Then, she opened her mouth and Wendy, not expecting anything dangerous to come from this action, did nothing to stop herself from listening. The mermaid began to sing.

And she began to feel something. A connection of some sort. Wendy was certain that the mermaid was not using words, at least not words that she understood, but she indeed _did_ understand. It was as if the mermaid was singing with feelings rather than words. Good feelings. Feelings of warmth that began to overwhelm Wendy. Thoughts of love and happiness attached themselves to the feelings. Images.

_Love._ Her family.

_Happiness._ Peter. She saw him. She saw him happy. She saw her younger self and with Peter. And they were both happy. She could not help but laugh out loud.

_Stop._

Something had snapped. This was not right at all. These feelings, these thoughts, these images, where were they coming from? Something had snapped and the serene moment was over. The images stopped as well as the feelings. Wendy looked down to see that the mermaid had taken hold of her wrist and that her hand was half way immersed in the water. She gasped and the mermaid, seeing the fear and realization in Wendy's widened eyes, hissed and took a firmer hold of her, using her other hand to grab Wendy's arm and tug.

"No!" screamed Wendy. This was exactly what she wanted _not _to happen. She had told herself not to get too close in remembrance of other times when she _had _gotten too close. Except, this time differed from other times. This time, Peter was not there to pull her back. Her free hand went to work in an attempt to pry the mermaid's hands from her arm. It was to no avail. Wendy felt that soon she would not be able to withstand the mermaid's strength.

While Wendy was undergoing her struggle, the other mermaids had stopped their activity. They came close, but just close enough to watch their fellow mermaid and the girl fighting to overcome one another. Their silence was noisy with excited anticipation.

Wendy looked into the mermaid's eyes and saw the malice taking over. She was losing. No. There had to be some way…Wendy's eyes, searching in a mad fashion, fell upon a jagged rock that she found to fit into her hand, a bit uncomfortably, but fit nonetheless.

The mermaid saw the rock and hissed, extending her claws so that they fit into Wendy's flesh. She cried out and used the rock as the claws that she did not possess, her adrenaline giving her strength. Continuously, she beat the rock into the mermaid's arm. Finding that this was not effective, Wendy moved onto something else. Using what seemed to be all her strength, she let out an enormous yell and swung the rock into the mermaid's temple.

Letting out a cry of her own, the mermaid immediately let go of Wendy's arm and swam backwards, a trail of blood flowing from her temple. As the water around her began to turn a murky reddish hue, another mermaid wrapped her arms around her as the one who attacked Wendy began to lose consciousness. The mermaids began to assemble together, staring at Wendy.

Meanwhile, Wendy was lying on the rocky shore, panting hard and nursing her arm. There was a mixture of her blood and the mermaid's, which she would have been quick to wash off in the water if the mermaids had not been occupying it. The weight of their stares frightened her greatly.

And then, it happened once more. The one who held her fallen companion began to sing. One by one, the others followed suite until they were singing in unison. And once again, the feelings came. They were sad. And angry…

Wendy stood and covered her ears, tears slipping down her face. She could not stand it. The mermaid's sorrow was too much for her. She could feel the sadness of each and every one of them. The tears would not stop and they soon turned into sobs. Wendy tried to stop herself, but she couldn't. They were doing it to her. They wanted her to feel their pain. And anger.

Closing her eyes and with her hands still pressed firmly on her ears, she ran away, not caring that she could not see where she was going. She needed to get as far away as possible, at least far enough so that she could not hear them.

------

They saw it. They saw it and remembered. They saw it and let the sorrow slip away from them. They respected it. They respected it and they respected him. And they stopped singing.

_Peter._

It rippled amongst them. The name. The name of the face that they had not seen in so long. But it was not the same face. However, the face _did_ have the sword. They all knew that sword. They'd memorized it from the countless times in which he had come to see them and tell them stories, using his sword to illustrate scenes. They'd watched him use it on board the Jolly Roger. They watched him cut off Hook's hand and feed it to Mother Crocodile.

_Peter._

He was fine-looking to them now, more striking than he had ever been. Even more stunning than they had ever imagined. He was desirable, and rare was the man that aroused the mermaids' desire.

_Peter._

They adored him.

As they stared up at him in awe, he looked down at them, forgetting for the moment why he was there in the first place when he saw the injured mermaid. "What happened here?" he asked, gesturing to her. Tinkerbell stood on his shoulder, attentive.

"A girl!" cried the one who held her fallen sister. "A girl did this!" Tears welled up in her eyes as sadness began to fill her once again.

Peter thought for a moment. A girl…an Indian girl?

"No!" cried another mermaid, when he asked. "This girl was pale—"

"With a white dress—"

The more the mermaids went on to describe the girl, the more Tinkerbell realized who she was. The girl was certainly not an Indian. She was Wendy.

"—and then she ran off, leaving poor Sirena—"

"Which way did she go?" cried Tinkerbell, urgently and flew off in that direction once told.

On the other hand, Peter did not notice, for he had no knowledge of Wendy being in Neverland. There was nothing to stir his recognition. Soon, thoughts of the girl left him and he remembered why he was at the Lagoon in the first place.

"My friend, Tootles, is on board the Jolly Roger," he said, pointing to the ship. "You must tell me what you know."

At once, their eyes darkened with the knowledge of what was in store for the unfortunate Tootles.

"Come, dear Peter, for what we know is delicate," said one, signaling for him to come closer. He knelt so that he could read her darkened eyes. "Your friend Tootles will fight the one they call Slim at sundown," she said.

Gasping, Peter looked up towards the Jolly Roger to find that the sun was preparing itself for its journey beneath the water. Dread filled him.

"In a duel," she continued, "to the death."

Upon hearing these last words, he unsheathed his sword and leapt into the air. But sadly, it was of no use. He still could not fly. The laws of the earth pulled him into the Lagoon, causing an outcry from the mermaids as they quickly parted to make room for his landing.

His hopeless thoughts weighed him down as he let himself sink toward the bottom.

------

She felt as if she belonged in that hole. She would claim it as her own and not come out for anything. And the best part was that she could hide. From everything and everyone. From all the mermaids and all the Tootleses. From all the Slightlys and the Nibses. Away from burden and away from sadness and away from Never Neverland.

It was funny. Who would ever put Neverland and sadness in the same sentence? Not Wendy. Not at one time, before…all _this._ And she _still_ did not even know why all this had happened. She had discovered nothing upon her arrival. If anything, she had made things worse. Most of all, she wanted to go home.

And now that she had fallen into a trap—most likely a forgotten lost boy trap—and was sitting at the bottom of a hole, she was allowed to put everything into a certain perspective. Wendy felt like she did not care anymore. She felt like she wanted to go home, _her_ home, and leave all this Neverland nonsense behind. She felt like waking up in her own bed and finding that this had all been a horrible nightmare.

But that was impossible, of course. Her heart would not stand for it. So, she stood and dusted herself off. Looking up, Wendy found that the hole was quite deep; the top was a few feet above her head. And by this point, she was not feeling the least bit happy. She already knew that getting out of this hole was going to be a bit difficult and that added to her gloom. Sighing heavily, she did not even attempt to fly out of the hole and tried to find somewhere to plant her foot so that she could climb out.

"Need some help?"

Startled, Wendy fell backwards and found herself unpleasantly in the dirt once again, watching as Tinkerbell flew down towards her.

Tinkerbell laughed her little bell laugh and asked, "Why didn't you just fly out?" Without waiting for an explanation, she produced fairy dust and slowly, Wendy rose into the air, still in a sitting position. "You silly girl. Where would you be without me?"

"How did you find me?" asked Wendy, once she had landed. "Where on earth have you been?"

"I should be the one asking questions," said Tinkerbell. "Why did you disturb the mermaids? They were singing and Peter couldn't even _think_ anymore—"

"Peter?"

"Yes, Peter! You should have seen him; the tears would not stop. The mermaids had no intention to stop singing, so _I _had to stop them. You stupid girl, can't you keep yourself out of trouble for? I leave you alone and you end up by the Mermaid Lagoon, and it's practically in shambles. What did you _do_ to them?"

What did she do? _What did she do?_ Wendy was suddenly angry. She had honestly had the worst experience of her life, and now, Tinkerbell was upset because Wendy had caused the Lagoon to be "practically in shambles?" _Bloody hell._ She simply would not allow for it. She couldn't. It wasn't fair. Wendy had almost drowned, among other things, and now this. "Do you know what I've been through? Look at this—" she displayed the arm that had survived the mermaid, the large amount of dried blood telling the story on its own, "—just look at what those—monsters did to me!"

Tinkerbell made a sound that she was about to speak, but Wendy interrupted her.

"And that isn't all!" she exclaimed, advancing on the fairy. "I saw Nibs die!" Tears welled at the memory. "On top of that, it's my fault that Tootles is on board that dreadful ship." She could not help but begin to cry and felt disgusted with herself for doing so. She needed to be strong. "And I still haven't seen Peter. I hardly know why I'm here, Tinkerbell, but I'm here. You said that Peter needed me, so I'm here. But you still haven't explained to me what happened in Neverland since I left. And where is Peter?"

"Behind you," said another voice.

_Behind you._ The simple sentence stood out boldly in her mind and the voice sent a chill up her spine. He was there, behind her. After all these years of yearning to see him again, she finally would. And all she needed to do was turn around…why was it so difficult?

Slowly, Wendy managed to do it and watched as Tinkerbell flew and took her place on his shoulder. Like Tootles, Peter too had grown quite a bit. He was tall, not as tall as Tootles, but more muscular than he. His blonde hair had darkened to a sort of light auburn color and had grown so that if she wanted to, she could tug on the very small ponytail that Peter had bound his uncontrollable hair in. As for the skeleton leaves, they were no longer there, for he was too mature for them. Wendy blushed at this thought, looking at the loincloth type thing that he wore around his midsection. In all, Peter looked like the American Indians that Wendy saw in her history books. He even had beads and feathers in his hair and had adorned himself with tattoos here and there.

He was beautiful. At once, Wendy knew that she loved him. His mere presence stirred feelings inside of her that she had never felt before, not with anyone. She felt connected to him in a way that she did not know she could feel. Memories of her childhood feelings for Peter resurfaced. They were nothing compared to what she felt now. It was as if they had been magnified, amplified, however you wanted to say it. _This _was why she was in Neverland. And as she walked towards him, she felt something else. As quickly as she had felt "the feeling" as she would call it for the time being, she felt another feeling. Fear.

It was Peter's eyes that were the source of this fear. They were just as beautiful as the rest of him, but something was wrong. She had seen eyes like that before. They were quite familiar. In fact, they played in her darkest dreams from time to time. The only other time she had seen eyes like Peter's were on that of his very arch nemesis: Captain James Hook.

How was it that they could share the same eyes? They were two different men. They had two different eye colors, even. However, it did not matter. They both exuberated what seemed to be a limitless amount of all things bad, such as loneliness and anger. But most of all, they were eyes that had forgotten how to love.

It was one thing to never have loved at all, but forgetting how to love was something else. Captain Hook had loved in his past but his time in Neverland had transformed him into something that, in his childhood, he had sworn to never become. And, no matter how many times Peter had claimed to be ignorant of love and all the things that went along with it, he _had_ loved at least once in his life. There was his mother, who even though he had forgotten about, he had still loved her. There was Tinkerbell, who he loved so much that he brought her back to life. And there was Wendy, who he tried so hard not to love because it was so alien to him.

And now Wendy, who so badly wanted to throw her arms about him and forget everything that had happened to her, just stared at his Captain Hook eyes. She had always envisioned what their reunion would be like, but had never imagined it to be anything like it actually was. "Hello, Peter," she said, wary of his eyes.

He stared back at her, hard, before saying, "Why are you here?"

"T-to help you," answered Wendy, quite frightened.

"I don't need your help. Go home." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked back towards the Mermaid Lagoon.

"But—but—!" Wendy charged after him, grabbing his arm. "Peter—"

"I said _go home_," he spat, coldly. "I don't need you. Or your silly stories."

Wendy's eyes glistened with dejection. The dejection soon transformed itself into fury. How could he—who was he—how dare he—

It happened. Before either of them were quick enough to realize what was happening, it happened. Wendy punched Peter square in the face.

**End Note:** So…how was it? Pardon me, again, for all the mistakes. Also, I'm sure that ff.net changed my formatting in _some_ way. I don't know…also, be sure that when looking out for the next chapter, you include rated R stories in your search, just in case. Thank you for reading. Please review with comments, questions, critiques, you know the deal.


	8. an update of some sort

**Author's Note (or whatever you want to call it)**

Hello, everyone. I just wanted you to know that I'm still alive and I haven't forgotten about this story. I do intend to finish it. I had the next chapter _almost_ finished, and then...my boyfriend broke up with me. And then I hated everything and wanted all these dark things (my story is already on the dark path, so even _darker _things) to happen. I found myself in a slump and it wasn't pretty. But I'm over it now and I hope to have a new chapter out by the end of the week. Or maybe a little longer. I have two summer reading books to read; forgive me. I hope you all understand. Thank you.


	9. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Hey, kids. I figured that I kept you waiting long enough. My original draft was at least two, three pages longer than this one, but it was not finished and I didn't have any idea how to finish. So…here you are. Kinda short, but hey, it's better than nothing, right? I hope that I won't keep you waiting as long as I did for the next chapter. But who's to say; what with college apps and all…ahhhh, scary. Enjoy. **Sorry for any of the mistakes that you may encounter. I've been fiddling with this chapter for quite some time now.**

**The Usual Disclaimer:** I don't own Peter Pan or the characters originally created by J.M. Barrie.

_Nothing Gold Can Stay__: chapter six_

_**Karma Chameleon**_

All Wendy's feelings of horror and anger and frustration and sadness and worthlessness had balled themselves up and launched themselves in the form of a fist of fury, their target being the side of Peter's face. She regretted it at once when she saw him pathetically clutch his cheek and moan in pain. She was tempted to cry out in pain as well from the impact her fist made with his face. Instead, she just bit her lip and began feverishly shaking her hand.

Whatever had come over her was gone now and she was quick to apologize. "Oh—Peter—I don't know—are you alright—Peter—I didn't mean to—" It was her instinct to touch him, hug him even, but she did not dare. She watched his profile as he still clutched the side of his face. Momentarily, he spat, his red hued spittle carrying a tooth with it. Wendy put a hand to her mouth. Oh, my. She had not meant to hit him _that_ hard. In fact, she had not meant to hit him at all. It was a mistake. A madness had come over her.

Seeing his tooth on the ground served as evidence that it had actually happened. _Wendy had struck him._ Peter's eyes narrowed and he spun around to face Wendy. Quickly, he took out his sword and distanced himself from her with it. It touched her midsection ever so slightly.

"If you come near me again," he said, slowly so that she would understand, "I will run you through. Understand? I will run you through!" He spat again and wiped his mouth. "Now," he said, relaxing his sword. "Go home."

Eyes shining, Wendy made the faintest movement of advancement towards him. "Please—"

Peter saw the movement towards him and swiftly lunged with his sword, when Tinkerbell flew in front of Wendy, her nose meeting the sword's tip.

"No!" she cried. "Stop it, just stop it!"

Wendy's eyes were wide and she trembled with anxiety. If there ever was a time she was thankful for the fairy, this was it.

Tinkerbell looked at the sword tip menacingly, as if daring it to move an inch closer. Her arms were spread and, in the air, she was firmly planted in position. "Tootles brought her—_we_ brought her here."

Gradually, Peter's sword was lowered as he let the words sink in.

"She's here to help you, Peter. We brought her here to help you." She flew to him so that she could be face to face with him.

"I don't need _her_," growled Peter.

Wendy looked away, hurt, as Tinkerbell went on.

"You need _something._ Something's the matter with you, Peter. Tootles and I thought that if we brought her—"

"Tootles is on board that ship!" shouted Peter. "And if we don't get there by sundown, Slim will kill him."

Looking past Peter and Tinkerbell, Wendy could see that it was dreadfully near sundown.

"And I still can't fly," mumbled Peter, hanging his head in shame.

Peter Pan couldn't fly? "That's impossible," murmured Wendy in disbelief. Peter said nothing and it only stirred Wendy's urge to know what had happened in Neverland even more. But now was not the time. Something had to be done and fast or whoever this Slim fellow was would kill poor Tootles. It seemed rather hopeless, seeing that Peter could not fly.

He could not fly, but she…

"Peter…" said Wendy, rather tentatively. There was no guarantee that he still would not hesitate to use his sword.

Looking up, eyes stormy, Peter waited for Wendy to speak.

"Um…p-perhaps…" Just say it, you silly girl, and be done with it, Wendy prepped herself. "Well, I can fly." Receiving only a blank stare, she continued. "Perhaps…perhaps _I _could go. To the Jolly Roger. To save Tootles."

_"You?"_ asked Peter, incredulously. It was unheard of, unthinkable. He would not allow it. Wendy would not go and save Tootles. Not alone. That would be sending her to her death. "You can't fight—"

"Ah, but I can," said Wendy. Peter had taught her to fight and although it had been long since she had brandished a sword, it would no doubt come back to her. She supposed that it was like riding a bicycle; once you learned, you never lost the skill. Or at least, she hoped that she had not lost it. "I can try."

Peter snorted. "Try is not good enough. It's either can or can't."

Seeing the doubt that Peter held for her in his eyes only made Wendy more determined. "Can. I can fight." She looked down at the hand that held his sword. "I shall need your sword."

Peter looked away for a moment. He admired Wendy for her bravery, he truly did, but what she wanted to do was ludicrous. Why, even _he_ did not plan on going to the Jolly Roger now. What good would it be? He had not flight on his side. And how would he get there? He was just an ordinary man.

No. No need to say it. He was not quite a _man_ yet…or was he…

Throwing the thought out for the time being, he looked at his sword, silently willing it to bring Wendy the luck that she needed. She would definitely need luck on her side.

"You want to go?" He handed Wendy his sword. "Then go." He turned his back on her and noted how beautiful the ship looked with the sun falling gracefully behind it. It was a terrible observation at a time like that.

Wendy looked at his back, silently wishing that he would turn around. She wanted him to give her one last look, a look that would fill her with courage. Hurt when he did not, she gazed at the sword. She would be brave. If not for herself, then for Tootles. And for Peter, if he ever would allow for her to do anything for him again. Forcing out a pained smile and exchanging one last glance with the worried fairy perched on Peter's shoulder, Wendy lifted herself into the air and flew past Peter, towards the ship.

Sadly, Tinkerbell watched her go. The mysterious outcome of that fateful day laid a burden on her shoulders. How could Peter just let her go like that? How was Wendy to survive, much less get herself _and_ Tootles off of that ship?

"She said that she saw Nibs die," said Tinkerbell, heavily.

"You mean—"

"She went to the Tree."

Not knowing what to make of this, Peter thought, cringing at the memory of the Tree. The Tree. The old underground house. It was cursed. It spoke, but only to two others—himself and one of the Twins. It showed them things…and now Wendy, too, had seen those things…

"Did I do the right thing, Tink?" asked Peter, suddenly. "Should I have let her go?"

"No," she said, truthfully. "But when have you ever listened to me?" She continued to watch Wendy before declaring, "I must go with her."

Since when did Tinkerbell care so much? Since when did you stop, Peter's conscience asked him. Though he had treated Wendy poorly, he did care. He had never stopped caring, not enough to condemn her to death as he just had.

"Wait," he called after Tinkerbell. It was as if he had not actually expected her to stop and wait for him to speak, for he did not know what he wanted to say. He knew what he wanted to _do_. He wanted to do the right thing, and the right thing was to go to the Jolly Roger. "Tink…" So, what would he do? Which would it be? To stay or to go? To suddenly begin to care again after what seemed like eons of moping and feeling sorry for himself?

Tootles meant so much to him, more to him than Peter had ever let him know. He was the only lost boy that had stayed with him. He owed him what little sanity he had left. And Wendy, he cared about Wendy. He knew that much. She meant something to him as well; he just did not know what. _No._ He was afraid to know what. Perhaps it was better that way. Maybe he should keep himself distanced from her.

Besides, what did she know about what he had been through? She had gone home and left him to grow up. She knew nothing. She knew nothing about how he had suffered. Where had she been when everyone had abandoned him? If anything, she had started the trend. And where she been when he had lost to Hook? Where had she been when he had needed her most?

Well, he did not need her now. Certainly not. An eye for an eye. She had left him, so he would do the same to her.

"What is it, Peter?"

"Nothing," he said, affirming his decision. He would not go after her. "Go, if you must."

_(Yeah...there's supposed to be a space here, but the site won't let me. Sorry. Proceed.)_

What on _earth_ am I doing, Wendy asked herself as she finally touched the Jolly Roger. At first, she had flown to the ship, remaining as close to the water as she dared without making actual contact with it. Then, when she had been far enough from the Lagoon, she thought it would be better to swim to the ship. But she had not thought about how difficult it would be with a sword in tow.

The sun was going down. Wendy could hear the pirates making a ruckus onboard the ship and she knew that if she should act, she should act _now_. She would just take her time about acting now. Slowly, she flew up just enough so that she could peer over the side to see what was happening. The scene unfolded in front of her.

Tootles was being carried by a wave of pirates, their hands passing him above their heads easily and swiftly, so that he could provide them entertainment just as swiftly, but perhaps not so easily on his part. They deposited him in the center of their crudely formed circle, making it so that Wendy had to struggle to see through arms and around torsos and moving bodies.

As Tootles sat in the middle of the circle, Wendy wondered to herself which one Slim was. She looked around, imagining this large but lean man whose stare offered no mercy. Her imagination worked harder. He would be ferocious and have enormous muscles that could wring the life out of you at the slightest touch—

But that would be ridiculous. The man that Wendy had constructed in her mind was dangerous, far too dangerous for Wendy to take on. Peter would never send her off to the Jolly Roger if he knew what she would be facing. However, a group of bloodthirsty pirates was just as bad as one abominably large bloodthirsty pirate. She was quite frightened as she thought of this and found the prospect of herself saving Tootles on her own quite unrealistic. She needed help.

And at the thought of this, she suddenly remembered a gift that she had been given only hours before. _A kiss._ And not just any kiss, but a fairy's kiss. Touching the apple of her cheek, she faintly remembered the lovely, tingling feeling that the kiss had left. Wendy did not know the power of a fairy's kiss, nor the bind that it created, but she did remember the fairy's words.

_"Now we will meet again. Just call out my name."_

__Ren. Ren, the charming little fairy who had freed her from that awful underground house. How in the world would he hear her if she called out his name? Wendy had no idea where he was; the island was quite large and he could be in any one of its boroughs.

The cheering grew in volume and Wendy grew attentive to the young man who was making his way through the crowd of pirates and into the middle, stopping just across from Tootles. Why, he was not large or ferocious at all! He did not even have the enormous muscles that she had envisioned. He was rather slight. Perhaps that is why they call him Slim, Wendy observed. And something about his face was familiar. Quite familiar, in fact.

She examined him for a few moments more until she heard splashing below her. It was almost like a pitter-patter at first, and then it grew more and more fervent. Wendy turned, her back to the ship, and looked down.

_Mermaids.___

There were quite a few of them, and they all looked up with her, hatred in their eyes. But they masked their hatred with their audible merriment. They laughed and shrieked, as if they were playing together in the privacy of their Lagoon.

_"Stop!"_ Wendy loudly whispered, though it could not be heard over the mermaids' noise. _"Please!" _she begged. She would be given away for sure. Thinking of nothing else, she waved the sword, hoping that it would scare them off. This did nothing but cause them to laugh and splash about more so. Wendy pressed her back against the ship and squeezed her eyes shut. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't flee—what about Tootles? And she couldn't hide; the mermaids would certainly follow her.

"Poor dear. She's frightened," said one of the mermaids with mock concern. The others laughed.

"Yes," observed another. "Shall we sing her a song to soothe her?"

Wendy's eyes opened at the word song. But it was too late. They had begun to sing and she had begun to listen. The feelings came, faster this time, and the images. She felt the anger, the hatred, ooze from them. She saw herself killing their sister, over and over again. They did not want her to forget. They would not _let_ her forget.

And as their revenge, Wendy would be taken captive on board the Jolly Roger. They would make sure of it. So they simply watched her as her mind became clouded with their sweet voices. They watched her struggle, allowed themselves to _feel _her struggle, so that they would know _exactly _when she lost against them. They watched as the pictures of anger and hatred weighed her down into their waiting arms.

And they watched her eyes grow as large as shells when the rock came speeding towards her head.

**End Note:** Well, what'd you think? Short and sweet. With a cliffhanger. I know how you all love those. Alright, well, I'd love some feedback. Thanks for reading!


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